A Walk to Remember
by a muggle named Caity
Summary: It's been four years since Hermione's passing.  Harry continues to remember.  A short oneshot based off of the novel, A Walk to Remember.  HHr.  Please R&R.


Title: A Walk to Remember

Author: a muggle named Caity

Ships: HHr

Rating: G

Disclaimer: You should know the drill by now, so I shouldn't have to repeat it for you.

Author's Note: I wrote this oneshot a few years ago. Please excuse any and all mistakes made; this oneshot is not beta'd.

And, just in case some of you are unaware, this oneshot is based off of Nicholas Sparks' novel, A Walk to Remember. You don't have to read the novel in order to read this oneshot, but it would help in understanding certain bits of it. There is also a movie about this novel. I highly suggest you see it if you haven't already because it's a wonderful movie. But, again, you don't have to watch it to read this oneshot.

Enjoy.

Warning: Major Character Death.

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Chapter: A Walk to Remember

I remember standing there, my breath literally catching in my throat as she had gracefully walked towards me; her father's arm had been linked with hers, holding her steady. She had looked beautiful; her hair had been put up in an elegant bun towards the top of her head, much like she had worn it at the Yule Ball in our fourth year at Hogwarts. She had had on the most lovely dress I had ever seen; it had been spaghetti-strapped, jewel encrusted, and a gorgeous creamy white color that had looked absolutely stunning against her pale skin.

That perfect summer day had been our wedding day. I know it had been sudden and we had been so young, but it was the last thing on her list and I had loved her enough to give it to her. I had been planning on doing this later on anyway.

As she and her father had approached me, he had smiled warmly and had given me her hand, giving her a gentle kiss on the cheek before returning to his seat in the front row of the church. I hadn't even noticed when the minister had begun his speech, for my total focus had been on the one woman before me, Hermione.

We both had recited our vows when time, had nodded when needed, and had said "I do" when supposed to. The entire wedding ceremony for us had been spent looking into each other's eyes, basically; we had never broken eye contact. And we both had repeatedly whispered "I love you" over and over again to one another. The only words that the minister had said that I had truly registered were, "You may now kiss your bride!" and believe me, I had happily obliged.

Our reception had been beautiful. Our friends really had went all out on us. And the Honeymoon had been incredible. Even with the exception of Hermione's disease. We had hardly ever left the room, half for Hermione's benefit, half for mine. But, mostly for Hermione's.

The next month had been spent moving into our house. I had done everything in my power to make sure that it had been comfortable for my Hermione, seeing as she had become sicker and sicker with each passing day.

The next few months after that had been spent doing anything and everything that Hermione had wanted to do. Most of the time, we had just been content to simply being with one another, and I had had no problem with that whatsoever. I had gotten to spend precious time with her before she left. Which is exactly what she did. Her cancer had finally won over and she had died peacefully in her sleep on Christmas night. I had expected myself to cry out and scream, but I did neither. I had merely cuddled up next to her and held her until the next morning had come.

The funeral had been perfect. I had expected no less for my Hermione. She had been buried right next to her mum, where she had always said she had wanted to be. I had had her gravestone be made of complete marble, and made sure it had said everything that had needed to be said.

I used to come back to visit her everyday. I had known that it hadn't been healthy, but it had helped me in the beginning. Ron and Ginny had sometimes accompanied me, for they had loved Hermione as well, but I had mostly gone by myself. I used to sometimes talk to her, for I had known that she had been listening and just literally couldn't communicate back to me. Then, I would make a trip to her grave once a week, then once a month, now I only visit her on select days throughout the year, including the anniversaries of her death, our wedding, and her birth.

It's been four years now since her death and the deep cut of her passing is still fresh within me. But, I know she's in a better place now, watching over us all from above; a true angel. And that's, truly, what gives me peace-of-mind to go on with my life.


End file.
